


Ode To Juliet

by bravopirla



Series: The Garden Of The Self [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Internalized Transphobia, M/M, No one is cishet, Platonic Relationships, Self-Acceptance, Trans Character, Very light but still, supportive family, supportive friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 02:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17799086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravopirla/pseuds/bravopirla
Summary: She wanted to have different point of views from people like her, who had gone through the same experience but lived it in their own different ways, and to realize what there really is in a name.Five times Sara asked others what a name means and one time she already had the answer.





	Ode To Juliet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> firmitas is tenacity, strenght of mind but mostly sticking to one's purpose. i felt it fit the first chapter as its main point is to start, take the first step
> 
> warning for slight internalized transphobia and mentioned transmisogyny

 

 

 

The only sound in the quietness of the rink was the sharp meeting of blades hitting ice, over and over, as a sole skater jumped as high as her legs would take her, almost trying to get away from the world beneath her.

 

But mostly, from her own mind, silent but still overwhelming with the same thought, crashing her over and over like waves, colder than the ice she danced on.

  

Sara, feminine name used mostly in Spain, Italy and other European states. Derivates from the Hebrew Sarah and means “lady, noblewoman, princess”.

 

She knew all of that and much more. Of course she did, she herself had chosen that name many years ago. She had decided that from that moment that this was what people would see her as, what they would think of when calling her name, who she would be perceived as.

 

However, a doubt still followed after years of pushing it away, an overbearing companion that kept her awake at night and her heart heavy in the day.

 Ever since she’d been old enough to question herself, she had wondered if it was the right name. If it really was what she wanted to be, no, _who_ she wanted to be.

 

Would people see her differently if her name wasn’t such a pretty sound? Did she make the right decision, all those years ago, leaving the name she had been given and forging her own path?

 

Had she been too young to really know what it entailed?

 

Whenever her doubts tried to pull her down, she went to her brother for advice, in long since passed years, to her mother, who would always say she was whoever she wanted to be. It had made her feel special at the time, understood. Welcomed.

 

Even if she could never truly understand what it meant to her.

 

But now, she wanted to face it differently. She wanted to have different point of views from people like her, who had gone through the same experience but lived it in their own different ways, and to realize what there really is in a name.

 

She finally stopped her winding dance and soon felt her breath come short and her legs ache. She walked over her bag and pulled out her phone with slightly shaking hands.

She might have over exercised herself again.

 

As she scrolled through her contacts, she felt a familiar mix of melancholy and nostalgia.

 

Once again, she asked her brother for advice, after two years of living apart as two independent beings.

 

But she knew she wasn’t falling back into their old habits. She didn’t need his help and he didn’t need hers. They were whole.

Still, she had missed him a bit. He was busy with the men championships and she was busy with hers, not much time to stay in touch even with their newfound bond.

 

She easily spotted his name, and tapped the call button after a moment of hesitation.

 

The digits on top of her screen said it was late, but not so late that he might already be sleeping, hopefully he had time to talk for a while.

 

She felt this conversation would leave them both with a lot to think over.

 

A ring, followed by another, and three more, but finally he picked up.

 

“Sara?”

He already sounded perplexed, but she guessed it was fair after two weeks of scarce messages and at around 10pm.

 

“Hey, Michi.” She felt her doubts surging again, gripping her heart and choking her breath.

 

She swallowed the unease down, and tried to keep the underlying shake in her voice under control.

 

“Are you free right now? I need to talk.” She could have said she simply wanted to talk, or would have like to, but she knew she couldn’t fool her brother, not on how helpless she felt in that moment.

 

She heard the sound of a chair being pulled, followed by steps and the groan of a couch.

She imagined Michi in his apartment in her mind, walking from his tiny study to the living room and sitting down to focus better on her words.

 She used to play this game much more often in her first years of separate competition, when she’d call and calm down thinking about how he was probably under the same pressure and stress, and felt better.

 It was incredibly relieving, to know that no matter where the other was, they had each other to count on.

 

 “Of course. What is it?”

 

Ah, the art of wording her inner fears and voicing them out loud. She had never been good at it, preferring to shake her head, smile and change subjects rather than exposing her insecurities.

 But this time, her pride would have to step back and let her heart speak.

 

“Why did you choose your name?”

 

She was taking small steps, that much was clear, but she knew he would be able to read between the lines, pick up the nervousness and tremor laced in her words, embroiled together like a lace of emotions.

  

The silence that followed was only interrupted by the slight static of the phone and the quiet sound of a deep breath. She couldn’t tell if it had been Michi or her.

 

“It was grandfather’s name, but you know that much. When I realized I’m a man, I was scared that I wouldn’t be accepted by our family, obviously. But when they said they’d help and support us...I wanted to repay them in some way, I guess. Follow the tradition.

 

“But mostly, it felt right. It felt right to be his grandson, to be myself, to be Michele. It made me feel at home.”

 

Sara heard his voice hitch on the last word, and she herself had to take in a shaky breath.

 

They both missed it. The feeling of being at home.

 But they were building one of their own.

 

“Honestly, I don’t really know how to explain it. It was a simple choice for me: I’d follow the tradition, make Grandfather happy, get a name that fit and that was all I needed.”

 

She pursed her lips. It had always been easier for him, to do what was expected from society.

 

After all, he was a man. And she was a woman. Even if life had never been kind to either of them, he had found a comfort in his new role, while hers came with a lot of added pressure and expectations.

 

She was sure he was working on that, on rebuilding his view of himself in a society built by cis people, but in a way that wouldn’t include their gender norms. It was hard to fight something that had always been your biggest enemy, once it slithers in your mind, but he owed her and all the women in the world that much.

 

Still, she was happy for him, for turning what could have been a disadvantage into a source of pride.

Even though she clearly remembered every time he had started a fight over being made fun of.  So his pride has probably been more fragile than he let on.

  

She felt lighter after hearing his point of view. She felt her smile come easily as she thought back to the first time she had helped him cut his hair, ending up in a mess of brown on the floor and an even messier haircut, but they were both so happy and proud of it.

 She felt her eyes grow wet.

 

“Thank you.”

 

She swore she could hear his smile, could feel him think back to the same moments of epiphany.

 

He didn’t ask why she had asked him about his name. Maybe he already knew. Maybe he just thought better than asking something she wouldn’t be ready to explain.

 She had missed it a bit, their wordless connection.

 

“Michi, next week I’m free the whole weekend. Wanna go surprise mom and dad?”

  

He laughed and she felt grateful. She had worried a bit that the subject would have gotten him all gloomy and closed off.

 

And she had already had more than enough of _that_ Michi.

  

“I’m spending Saturday with Emil- Stop grinning, he’s just being friendly” Apparently, they shared the power of seeing each other’s facial expressions trough the phone. “but I can on Sunday.”

“Sure, Casanova. See you then.”

“Bye, stronza.” 

“Ah and bring Emil over he should meet our parents before he proposes!” 

“Oh my G- “She closed the call before he could scream her ear off with excuses for why he was spending his only free weekend of the month with Emil. Alone. In his tiny apartment. With only one bedroom.

 

She felt happy again. Light.

 

Not necessarily like a princess, but like Sara. And it was enough.

 

She texted Michi a quick ‘i love you’ and went to pack her bag.

 

She had to get ready to go back home, but somehow, she already felt like she was there.

At home.

 

 

She kinda hoped he did bring Emil over, it would be fun to see him struggle with denying their obviously reciprocated crush.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this work is based on my own experiences but im agender and neither a trans girl nor trans boy so i cant describe what sara or michi or the rest of the characters feel so i tried to make this personal and realistic while keeping it from getting too angsty or self-deprecating because i personally cant stand reading or writing about gay/trans pain
> 
> in yoi homophobia doesnt exist so i guessed transphobia shouldnt either and trans or nb people are freely allowed to practice their sports in world cups and stuff
> 
> mostly this is supposed to be something that reminds myself and others that being gender non conforming is different for everyone and theres no wrong or right way to be trans


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